


Fresh Eyes

by snakeling



Category: Merlin (BBC)
Genre: Humour, M/M, Plot What Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-30
Updated: 2009-06-30
Packaged: 2017-10-07 04:39:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snakeling/pseuds/snakeling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Since they've arrived in Mercia, everyone is behaving strangely, and frankly Merlin is sick of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fresh Eyes

The only thing worse than a formal banquet at home was a formal banquet at another court. At least King Uther kept his knights in hand; nobody would have dared stopping Merlin while he was taking a fresh jug of wine — watered, because Arthur wanted to keep a clear head while he was his father’s ambassador — to the Prince.

The knight in front of him was young, but already built like a mountain, and the one at his back was barely smaller. Merlin sighed.

“If your lordships will excuse me . . .”

There was a huge grin on the face of the knight. “Give us a kiss, pretty boy, and you can pass.”

What the . . . ? Merlin shook his head. “I don’t think so. Now let me go, my master is expecting me.”

“After payment only.”

Merlin lost patience. He side-stepped the knight in front of him, but he’d forgotten about the one behind, who caught him by the waist and whirled him around. His head was blocked by two huge hands and his mouth invaded by a tongue in a sloppy kiss. Two other hands groped his arse and crotch. As a seduction scene, it was somewhat lacking, and Merlin decided to cool his suitors’ ardours with what he had on hand. He poured his wine down the knights’ britches, and in the confusion ducked out of their reaches.

Arthur was holding up his goblet and looking somewhat angry. Merlin peered down the jug; it was almost empty. He sighed and poured down the last few drops.

“Sorry, there was a mishap. I’ll go get more.”

Instead of answering with a quip about Merlin’s clumsiness, Arthur said in a somewhat tight tone, “Yes, I saw.” He looked pointedly at Merlin’s chin. Merlin wiped it with his sleeve; there was still saliva from the knight’s slobbering kiss. He shuddered in disgust. Arthur was grinding his teeth while glaring daggers at his assailants, and Merlin realised it wasn’t with him that Arthur was angry.

“Do you need help?”

Merlin thought about it. “I don’t think so.” A little bit of magic could go a long way, though he’d have to be careful. They might not be in Camelot, but gossip travelled fast and knew no borders.

Arthur snorted softly. “Which means yes.” He glanced away, then back to Merlin. “Play along.”

Merlin frowned, then felt his eyes widen as Arthur dipped his thumb in his wine and traced Merlin’s mouth with it, just slightly pushing it inside. Arthur’s eyes were darting at the lower end of the table; he must be doing it for the knights’ benefit. Merlin dutifully sucked Arthur’s thumb inside, grateful for the way the taste of the knight’s kiss was replaced by sword oil, sweat and the lye soap Arthur used. After a minute, Arthur sent him away for more wine, but not before he squeezed Merlin’s arse.

* * *

“Did the people who were bothering you get the message?” Arthur asked later that evening, when Merlin was helping him prepare for bed.

“Oh yes!” Merlin said happily. “One of them even apologised.”

“You’ll have to sleep here, though.”

Merlin nodded. “I’ll ask a servant for a pallet.”

Arthur looked skywards with that expression on his face that meant he was praying whoever was listening to give him the patience to deal with brain-addled manservants. Merlin waited to hear what he’d done wrong — at least in Arthur’s opinion —, this time.

“Merlin. You’re supposed to be sleeping with me. You can’t go requesting pallets and have gossip know that we’re sleeping separately. Anyway, the bed is big enough for the two of us. And it’s freezing, so it won’t exactly be a hardship.”

That was a good point. These people were stingy enough with firewood for royal visitors; the servants’ quarters were bound to be worse. Merlin retrieved his roll of clothes from where he’d stashed it, and turning his back on Arthur, proceeded to change for the night.

He left the side of the bed closer to the fire to Arthur, but had no qualms about burrowing under the goose down duvet until only his hair was exposed to the cold air. At his back, Arthur was putting out warmth enough, and Merlin fell asleep quickly.

* * *

When Merlin woke up, he had an Arthur-sized octopus all over him. Arthur had thrown an arm and a leg over him and was lying half on his chest, breathing wetly in his neck. Merlin shifted a little, his eyes opening wide and a nervous giggle escaping when he realised what exactly was poking his thigh. Weirdly, he’d never imagined Arthur in a sexual capacity. Maybe because he’d never walked on him taking his pleasure with a servant or a guest. Unsure of how Arthur would react, Merlin tried to slide away. Arthur, without waking up, grunted and tightened his hold, burrowing his head in the crook of Merlin’s neck.

Thus pinned to the bed, Merlin only had one solution left.

“Arthur? Wake up, Arthur!”

Arthur grunted again.

“Arthur!”

Arthur finally half-opened his eyes, lifting his head to look at Merlin. For a few seconds there was no recognition in his eyes, then he seemed to wake up completely, sitting up and scrambling off Merlin’s body, nearly falling off the bed in the process.

“Sorry, sorry.”

Merlin looked at that display in amazement; he’d never known Arthur to be this ruffled. It was a bit insulting, actually, that Arthur reacted that way to their positions. It’d been awkward, of course, but nothing Merlin wouldn’t welcome on a regular basis. Well, if this was how Arthur felt about it, maybe it would be better to pretend nothing had happened. Merlin hoped out of the bed, cursing at the cold stone on the floor, and stoked the hearth for embers.

* * *

Ignoring the way Arthur seemed to confuse his body with a mattress would have been a lot easier if it hadn’t happened _every single morning_. Merlin wasn’t complaining about that, though. Now that he’d realised that Arthur was just as sexual a creature as himself, he couldn’t help picture him into all sorts of positions, usually involving him as the other partner. And he’d caught Arthur looking once or twice, so he knew the interest was returned, even though Arthur still hadn’t made a move

What he still didn’t understand was that Arthur was still freaked out by his own nocturnal habits, to the point where Merlin’d had to stop him from putting his sword in the middle of the bed. Seriously, out of all the possible solutions — which Merlin wasn’t going to enumerate to Arthur, because whatever people said, he wasn’t _stupid_ — trust Arthur to come up with one straight out of a minstrel’s tale. Arthur was also spending all his free time training with his knights, apparently to “keep in shape”, though it really felt more as if he was avoiding Merlin.

On top of that, Sir Leu, Arthur’s head knight, had twice approached him to tell him that the duties of a servant were limited, and if he needed a sympathetic ear, Leu would be happy to lend his, which made no sense whatsoever. He’d reported the conversation to Arthur, who’d blushed bright red, and gone to have a “word” with Sir Leu.

All in all, this was shaping to be one of the weirdest trips ever.

* * *

They were scheduled to leave in two days’ time, and Merlin couldn’t have been happier. He missed Camelot with the intensity generally reserved for a lover, and just wished to be home, where everything and everyone were normal. He didn’t know what it was about Mercia that made people acting the way they did, but he’d seen enough of it for a lifetime.

As usual, he woke up with Arthur curled half on him. He didn’t move, for fear of waking him up and losing the delicious weight. It was useless, however, as Arthur opened his eyes, and they went through the usual morning rigmarole. This time, though, in a sudden fit of anger, Merlin caught Arthur by his shirt before he could make his escape.

“For God’s sake, will you stop avoiding me and _do_ something?”

Arthur was rigid with discomfort. “Do what?”

“Touch me, kiss me, fuck me. Whatever you want!”

“But I can’t.” Arthur’s voice was nearly inaudible.

Of all answers . . . Merlin had expected him to deny his feelings, not to admit . . . what exactly?

“What can’t you do?”

Arthur looked away, visibly searching for the right words. “I can’t do whatever _I_ want. It has to be whatever _you_ want. Don’t you understand?”

Actually, Merlin didn’t, and said as much. “You have no problems ordering me about, usually.”

“Yes!” Arthur burst out. “God, what kind of dim-witted moron are you? You’re my servant, I’m the Prince. You can’t say no to me.”

Merlin opened his mouth, then closed it. He wasn’t the only dim-witted moron around, it seemed. “Do you really think that I would have a problem telling you where to stuff it if I really didn’t want to have sex with you?”

That brought Arthur short.

“Exactly,” Merlin continued. “But since you insist . . .” He gave Arthur a shove, making him fall back, immediately kneeling between Arthur’s spread legs. He wrestled Arthur out of his sleeping tunic before getting rid of his own. “That consent enough for you?” He didn’t wait for an answer, capturing instead Arthur’s lips in a kiss that he hoped would leave no doubt as to his wishes.

When he looked up, Arthur looked a little dazed, his lips swollen and red.

“Since this is all about what I want, here’s the order of the day. First, I’m going to suck you until you’re quite hard. Then I’m going to fuck myself on you. And if it isn’t enough to make me come, you’ll suck me until I do. Any objections?”

Arthur didn’t answer verbally, but to Merlin’s expert eye, he didn’t look about to launch a protest, so Merlin just went on with his programme.

Given Arthur’s new compliance, Merlin wasn’t about to rush it, so he took his time looking at Arthur. He had a very nice cock, not too big. It leaned slightly to the left, which gave it character. Blond hairs curled at its base and around the balls. Merlin stroked a finger through them; they were softer than they looked. Arthur moaned, so Merlin took pity on him and his cock in his mouth. He’d been right about the size; it fitted perfectly.

He explored it with little laps of his tongue, relishing the way it hardened under his touch. He couldn’t help smiling in triumph when he felt Arthur’s hands hovering around his head, as if he weren’t sure whether he was allowed to touch, to direct — he was; for all his bossiness in bed, Merlin loved very few things more than having his mouth fucked, the feeling of helplessness that came with it.

Yet Merlin had other plans for now, so he released Arthur’s cock with a loud pop, knocking his hands away in the process. The panicked gleam was back in Arthur’s eyes, so Merlin kissed him again to make sure he knew Merlin was still very willing. Those concerns of Arthur’s were both exasperating and endearing.

Sitting up, Merlin held Arthur’s cock straight and started lowering himself on it. Closing his eyes to make sure Arthur wouldn’t see his eyes turn gold, he whispered the greasing spell he normally used for Arthur’s sword under his breath. Even then, it was tight and slow-going, and almost on the wrong side of the pain-pleasure divide.

He started long, slow strokes, gliding up and down almost the whole length of Arthur’s cock. It was torture, but a delightful one. He was losing himself in pleasure when his train of thought was interrupted by two large hands on his hips, stilling his movements. Merlin opened his eyes. Arthur was grinning, though it was a little strained around the edges.

“You know, I’m getting the feeling that I’m transparent, and I don’t like it at all.”

In a smooth move, he flipped Merlin on his back, towering over him.

“You want this?”

Merlin wrapped his legs around Arthur’s waist. “Oh, _yes_.”

“Then take it.”

Arthur set up a punishing rhythm, hard and fast, utterly different from what Merlin had been doing, and yet just as innately satisfying. Merlin had known that when Arthur put his mind to it, he would be an exceptional lover, but the reality of it was even better than his best fantasies. Arthur seemed to know instinctively where to touch him to elicit the maximum response, and Merlin was content to hang on for dear life and let Arthur lead him for the ride.

The combination of a new, skilful lover, a long period of celibacy, and weeks of frustration and anticipation made certain he wouldn’t last. Arthur’s thrusts stuttered until he slammed deep inside Merlin and came. His face contorted in ecstasy, and this more than anything was what tipped Merlin over the edge. He buried his face in Arthur’s chest as he felt his magic spin wildly inside him, and hoped that Arthur would be too far out of it to notice the way the fire burst to life in the hearth and the candles glowed brightly.

Arthur fell down on him, sweaty and heavy with happy exhaustion. Merlin poked him until he rolled away, then snuggled against his chest, not caring about the come smeared all over their bodies.

“Damn, I wanted to suck you.”

Merlin opened an eye with some difficulties. “Next time?”

Arthur grinned happily and countered, “Tonight?”

Merlin closed his eye again, a smile tugging at his lips. “In the next half-hour?”

Arthur wrapped a hand around Merlin’s cock. “In the next five minutes?”


End file.
